It pulses, it breaths, it moves... 
It watches at you and searches for you... 
It whispers at your ears... And makes you dream... 
And you can hear it's heart-beat... 
It's alive! 

I'm the root... The root of Carpathia 
I'm the root... The root of Madness 
I'm the ink to write your Necronomicon 
I'm the prayer... to enslave your demons 
I'm the blood that makes you free 
I'm the root... the root... the root... 

AT NORTH 
ZUMUORSOBET, NOIJM, ZAVAXO!!! 
AT EAST 
QUEAHIJ, ABAWO, NOQUETONAIJI!!! 
AT SOUTH 
OSAIJ, WURAM, THEFOTOSON!!! 
AT WEST 
ZIJORONAIFWETHO, MUGELTHOR, MULGETHOR-YZX!!! 

It tells, it speaks, it rises the damnation 
Listen to it's stories: 
Always new and always old, 
Always the same and always different 
Close your eyes, close your mouth... 
Also in silence and in blindness you will find it in 
you 
It's in you...it's in you... it's in you... 

And so, in it's many forms and groups such as prose and 
poetry 
Story or comments, 
We are devoted to it... 
To the pleasure of the sound it produces 
To it's existance that describes a moment 
What beats, breathes, moves, we watch... 

I'm the root... The root of Carpathia 
I'm the root... The root of Madness 
I'm the ink to write your Necronomicon 
I'm the blood that makes you free 
I'm the root... the root... the root...